


love after loss

by emmamere



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Aftermath, Complicated Relationships, Comrades, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Post-Canon, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 00:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmamere/pseuds/emmamere
Summary: Arya is, he thinks, the most beautiful thing in existence.





	love after loss

In the brisk air of a winter evening, Eragon, Saphira, and Arya share stories of the past. 

Eragon relays amusing memories of his former life in Carvahall, enjoying how Saphira responds with deep-chested, hearty laughs, and Arya with faint smiles and the occasional inquisition. He answers every one with a newfound witty cheer.

The other two speak less than he does. Saphira doesn't have all that many tales that exclude him, Arya being naturally reserved, despite the many conversations they'd shared.

But the elf does offer, eventually, her own accounts. Arya speaks of her childhood in Ellesméra, of tree-sung houses, chiming elven giggles, and the spanning walls of a palace, and Eragon hangs on to every word.

There is a light in her, Eragon realises. It's not from the dying fire before them, or from the maze of stars above - not even magic can produce such a glow, he reckons.

Saphira fades with the nostalgic tune of Arya's words. She huffs a final time, reinforcing the campfire with a tongue of flame from her maw, then curls inward for slumber. 

Arya blinks and pauses. Eragon is transfixed by her face, sharp and chivalrous, as it stills. He almost reprimands himself.

"Eragon."

He starts. "Yes?"

She roots him. Arya makes him real by the silk of her hair and the pulcher of her eyes and the point of her ears. Arya, he thinks, is everything.

Her voice is clear, more elegant than that of any human but less lilting than that of any elf.

"I wouldn't have won this war with anyone but you, Eragon," she concedes.

"I wouldn't have fallen in love with anyone but you, Arya," he concedes.

Jade orbs widen and he leans in to taste her immortal lips. This time, she stays.


End file.
